


Cinnamon Girl

by sheep_sleeepy



Category: Mamamoo
Genre: Angst, Drugs, F/F, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Not Happy, Smut, wheesun - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:54:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28967907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheep_sleeepy/pseuds/sheep_sleeepy
Summary: Yongsun has a relapse and looks for her favorite drug ... which forces Wheein to have a relapse too.Oneshot inspired by Lana Del Rey's "Cinnamon Girl".
Relationships: Jung Wheein/Kim Yongsun | Solar
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Cinnamon Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Hi~
> 
> I already posted this oneshot on aff, but I'm bored, so I was reviewing it and decided to post it here too.
> 
> It is a first-person narration, pov of the character Yongsun.  
> I was very sad when I wrote it, so this fiction is not happy. It's quite angsty... 
> 
> TW: Mature content, sex, drugs use, reference to the death of a secondary character.

It's raining.

The thick drops hit the roof and make the car windows blurry. The rain sounds loud now that the radio is off, I squeeze the steering wheel hard trying to ignore the chill that runs through my body as I continue to stare at the building across the street. How long have I been here? Probably long enough to arouse suspicion in the grumpy old man who owns the newsstand around the corner. But today it is raining and the stall is closed, the old man must be at home eating some watery soup while he feels his bones stiffen under the blanket. He's too far away to worry about the fact that it's the third day in a row that I've been standing in front of her building.

‘ _You're pathetic, Yongsun.’_

The entrance door opens abruptly and a man comes out with an umbrella, he stops on the sidewalk and looks at the closed newsstand. Judging by the hour, it must be Mr. Kang going to the market to buy more cigarettes and soju. He lifts the collar of his faded coat and heads to the grocery store on the other block with hurried steps and stooped posture, he must be disappointed that he won't be able to buy a new smuggled playboy magazine to entertain him at night. This would be the perfect time to enter, so I could avoid meeting him not so “by chance” in the hall. I sigh at the thought of entering. The door closes slowly, I can almost hear the rustling of the rusty hinges, and it looks like the lock is still broken because the door is ajar.

Mocking me.

Mocking my cowardice, my weakness.

My lower lip hurts under the pressure of my teeth.

I decide to enter and, glancing at the rearview mirror, I realize that I'm a bit pale, dark circles under my eyes and my hair is a mess, but she won't mind that. I get out of the car before the moment of courage passes, running across the street in the heavy rain. The doorknob is cold and another shiver runs through me when I grab it to open the door wide. Anyone who sees me entering the building so confident would not imagine that I am at the peak of my weakness. Mrs. Oh is sitting on her stool by the stairs, smoking as always.

\- Good afternoon, Miss Kim. - she greets me with a toothless smile, in the reddened eyes I can see that she knew I would come back.

I always come back.

\- Good afternoon. - I answer heading to the stairs.

My shaky voice is strange, maybe it's the cold. Or anticipation.

I feel Mrs. Oh's eyes following me, I put my hands in my pockets and hold my cell phone and car key tightly. The smoke of her cigarette bothers me, I suppress the urge to cough and hold my breath as I speed up my steps.

 _'It's only the first flight.'_ I repeat to myself until I reach the second flight of stairs, where the cigarette smoke disappears and I can breathe again. My footsteps echo on the white walls, the first floor of the building is quiet, the only sign of the Lee twins is the scribbles on the hall wall. The rain must be keeping children in school after hours. As I continue my climb, I can feel the heat spreading through my body, my hands are already sweating.

The distance decreases with each step and I don't know what to say when she opens the door.

I say hi ... and what else? I ask to enter?

Can I ask for a hug?

Do I ask for a kiss or a touch?

I ask her to love me too?

I can't ... I know I can't. I reach the second floor and it is the first time that I hesitate since I got out of the car.

 _'Don't come back, Yongsun. I don't want to hurt you ... ’_ I spent the last few weeks brooding over those words, I came to the conclusion that she doesn’t understand that that’s exactly why I’m back. She doesn't want to and I assume she won't hurt me. Is it speculation? Yes. I can't help speculating that maybe she could be the first to truly love me without hurting me.

And I hope it is true, even though I know that deep down this will not happen because I know how bad I do her. But here I am, I found my way back, even after she pushed me away.

Masochist, perhaps? Sadistic? I don't remember what my therapist said about it. I don't mind remembering now either.

The world moves around me following the pace of my steps that are no longer as steady as before. Mr. Kang's door, with his peephole too big, is just a blur to my right before I turn around and face the door to apartment 202.

I haven't decided what to say if she opens it.

Fuck it.

I don't hear the knock on the door, but I know I'm knocking. I see my shaking fist move, I feel the hardness of the wood, but the sound of drums in my ears is too loud and only increases with the passing of seconds. Did she hear me knock on the door? The air feels hot against my skin, stuffy, I have to force myself to breathe. My vision is distorted, I only see the number 202 in front of me. My legs seem to be merging with the floor, my arm hanging beside my body looks like lead.

I see a figure on my left, Mr. Kang has returned from the market, and it seems like I lost track of time again. The 202 looks back at me in silence, I wonder if I should knock again or if I should leave before the old pervert tries to talk to me.

I don't want to leave.

Mr. Kang's coughing echoes down the hall, the clinking of the bottles accompanying his steps, closer and closer. I can already feel his disgusting look on me. But that and everything else is erased the moment the door opens.

Interesting the effect she has on me. I feel the air around me being renewed, everything seems clearer; I feel my limbs light, loose, relaxed; my heart doesn't hurt when it beats. The brown eyes that I adore so much are a little puffy, cloudy and I know she woke up a short time ago. Her hair, which is now blond and short, is messy, black-framed glasses rest on the top of her head, that is leaning against the door. My gaze is drawn to her mouth, her lips are gently curved, the dimple stands out on her cheek, which seems a bit chubby now.

My breath hitches for a moment under the impact of her beauty.

Three weeks, four days, 13 hours, and a few minutes without seeing her. It was as long as I was able to stay away from her and it seemed like an eternity. But I think that for an addict, any time away from drugs is an eternity, isn't it? It took me three weeks, four days, 13 hours and a few minutes to finally reached the limit of my withdrawal.

\- You better get in. - she says seriously, her eyes are turned to the hall.

I follow her gaze and startle a little, I had already forgotten that Mr. Kang was there looking at me, hungry as if I were a piece of meat. I turn to her again and nod, she takes a step back and lets me in.

When the door is closed and locked, I turn around and can't control myself. I advance over her, my hands on her face, my mouth on hers. My heart sings when kissing me back, she pulls me into her. I press my body against hers, pinning her against the door and a strangled sound is heard. It is probably my despair ringing out as her tongue explores my mouth.

God, how I _missed_ that.

But she breaks the kiss, I try to capture her lips again, but there's a light bite on my chin, a warning for me to be quiet, maybe. Which, being honest, is difficult. Since hands have invaded my coat and wander over my body, so slowly as her mouth distributes kisses and light bites across my jaw. The hands stop at my lower back and press while her hot breath hits my ear.

I shudder.

The taste of cinnamon from her kiss spreads through my mouth and gets more intense with her touch. I feel the door against my hands, I press my body harder against her, we both moan.

\- Yongsunnie, I need to take the kettle off the stove before my kitchen explodes. - she whispers before biting my earlobe, the pressure of her hands on my back increases.

After she says that, I'm able to hear the kettle whistle. Loud and annoying.

\- Ok ... - I whisper back before pulling away, her arms remain motionless, holding me.

I take a step back, and she follows me, our bodies still glued together as she kisses my neck. We went on like this until I felt the couch against my legs, only then did she let go and I fell down on it. In the blink of an eye, she is a figure running in the shadows of the apartment towards the kitchen. My breathing is heavy, I notice when trying to remove my coat, which now bothers me. Ggomo complains when the piece is thrown at him, I didn't see that the cat was lying on the corner of the sofa, I smile when the little ball of fur gets up and stretches. Ggomo smells my coat suspiciously and seems to recognize me, but he protests when I pick him up and get up.

\- Wheein. - I call as soon as I enter the kitchen, the smell of coffee invades my senses, Ggomo moves in my arms.

She turns and smiles when she sees me with her cat.

\- Be careful he doesn't scratch you. Do you want coffee?

\- Ggomo won't scratch me, we're friends. - I say before burying my face against his hair, Ggomo protests more intensely. - And no, thanks.

\- Don't trust the love of that one. - I hear her murmur, and I look at her.

Wheein is looking at us, still smiling. It is not a happy smile.

I release Ggomo, who runs off to hide and approach her. Her hands pass over my face, removing the hair left from my attack on the poor cat, I wait she finishes before kiss her again. In a softer way this time, she responds to me with the same kindness, and then I press my forehead to hers. I want to ask how she is and what she has done ... I want to say that I saw one of her paintings in a gallery the other day ... I want to tell her that I went camping with my sister and that it was good and that I remembered her when I saw the starry sky at night. .. but I can only whisper:

\- I missed you.

\- I know ... - she replies after a minute of silence. - Me too.

Our eyes meet and we remain silent.

All the things I want to say come to my throat, but I swallow them. Wheein closes her eyes and I know that she can see in mine everything I can't speak. She sighs, and so do I. When she opens her eyes again, the brown tone reflects the melancholy that we share.

I kiss the tip of her nose before taking a step back, she takes my hands and moves forward. I feel her hand on my face once more, fingers run over my eyes and nose, trace the outline of my face and weave my wet hair before sliding through the long locks. I close my eyes at the soft, sweet touch. I remember the first time she touched me like that, I remember how her touch steadied me, kept me sain amid the sirens, my ex's screams, and the pain I felt.

Wheein gently holds my cheek, it brings me back to the present, her thumb caresses my mouth before pulling on my bottom lip. And then she kisses me hard, in anger, our teeth clash when she advances further. I walk back and look for support on the table when she bites my lip, the sound that escapes my throat is a mixture of pain and pleasure.

I find it fascinating and exciting how sweet and spicy Wheein can be at the same time, like the cinnamon that is present in everything about her. I sit at the table and she removes my shirt before attacking my mouth again, a contrast to the kindness with which she makes me lie down. Wheein keeps kissing me as she positions herself between my legs, now it's her body that presses against mine. I hold the back of her neck with one hand, with the other I remove her glasses and set them aside, being careful not to drop or break them. Her clothes bother me, so I start pulling on the military print blouse she's wearing. It takes a while, but she understands what I'm trying to do and helps me. When she straightens up to remove her pajamas, I sit up and wrap my legs around her to keep her in place.

Wheein doesn't usually wear a bra and that's one of the things I love about her. So it's natural, automatic when my hands touch her breasts. Our mouths crash again when I hear the gasp, her response to the work of my thumbs on the already erect nipples. We deepened the kiss, I feel her trace my abs a few times and open my pants. Wheein gasps again, arching her back, pushing her breasts against my palms.

\- Yongsun ... - she practically purrs my name as I work on her.

I start to distribute kisses around her neck, her hands touch me under the bra and when the pleasure reaches me, I end up biting her. The hiss is accompanied by pinches on my nipples, I tighten my legs around her more. I try to unclasp my bra while she bites my earlobe again, the heavy breathing makes me shiver. I let her feel free to remove my bra or not, my hand goes back to her neck and I lean back a little. It is at that moment that I open my eyes a little and see Ggomo on the counter, looking at us in a way that makes it clear that he is judging us.

\- Wheein ... - my voice sounds low and hoarse, she doesn't answer me. - Wheein!

\- Hmm? - she keeps kissing my neck, one of my nipples is stuck between her thumb and forefinger, I bite my lip to contain the moan that tries to escape.

\- Ggomo. - I say almost out of breath and she stops.

\- Hm?! - Wheein turns and sees the cat on the counter next to the long-forgotten cafe, lying like a sphinx and looking at us judiciously. - Damn it! Let's go to the bedroom.

Sex in front of the Ggomo was strictly forbidden, after all, he was Wheein's child. She pats my leg and I release her, get off the table and let myself go. We laugh lightly as we enter the room, she locks the door and pushes me on the unmade bed.

It is strange how the mattress sinks under my weight, I almost feel swallowed by the bed that is too soft. This sensation is maximized by the total darkness and the smell in the room.

Ink, cinnamon, and weed.

Mixed forming that smell that was uniquely Wheein's.

Then I feel her effect on me again, stronger. The air invades my lungs with the scent of it; in the dark room her silhouette stands out; I feel my head and my limbs lighter, I feel that I can float. It's her hands removing my pants that hold me and it's her weight on me that keeps me in place. Her mouth burns my skin, leaving wet and hot trails across my neck and collarbones, down into the valley between my breasts, but ignoring them. I feel restless, and I try to rush her, but Wheein is in no hurry. She takes my hands, which are trying to guide her head, and pulls them away, placing them on the mattress when she bites my left nipple. Another warning for me to be quiet, but my hips rise against her involuntarily. Then she moves, inserts a leg between mine, and presses. Now we both realize how excited I am, the ease with which I slide against her thigh is obscene. Our moans sound synchronized. Wheein leans her forehead against mine, our breaths mingle, while she lets me take advantage of that pleasant friction without any shyness. The tension builds in me with each passing minute and I increase my speed in search of the climax, but Wheein makes me stop. The pressure is gone and there is nothing else I can use to give myself pleasure, I hear her low laughter close to my ear. She laughs at my undisguised frustration and I can't even protest the lost orgasm, as she is already falling over my body again. I know that I will have to deal with the hickey and bite marks that she leaves along the way and I don't care.

I like it, each mark is a physical reminder of Jung Wheein's touching me.

She lingers playing with me, rebuilding the tension little by little until I feel like I'm going crazy if she doesn't go further down. Short nails sink into my skin when she separates my legs and, without warning, I feel her tongue hot against me. Greedy, quick, without hesitation. The precision with which it reaches all the right points leaves me with my mouth hanging, and my breath fails after a harder suck on my clit, my legs seem to melt at the speed with which she uses her tongue. I am vaguely aware that I am the source of all the noise that echoes through the room, moans growing louder and more urgent, until I pronounce her name an octave higher, breathless, and I hear no more. Too absorbed in the white-hot pleasure that takes over my body.

I think I was floating distant in space for a few seconds, lost in the ecstasy that came over me, because I hear her voice calling me, far away.

\- Yongsun ...? - she calls me again, a slight concern permeates the hoarseness of her voice. Eyes with dilated pupils watch me closely.

My mouth is open, my breath is heavy, my hands are fisted tightly on the sheet. She holds my cheek, in that sweet, delicate way, and brings me back to earth.

\- Y-yes? - I reply shakily.

\- Are you alright? - she asks maintaining eye contact.

I observe the slight crease between her eyebrows, the bridge of her sharp nose, the swollen and wet lips. Beautiful, she is wonderfully beautiful. I miss the dimple, but I know that my favorite detail of her face will appear as soon as I answer the question.

\- More than alright. - and there is the dimple. My smile reflects hers.

Wheein leans over and kisses me calmly, I feel my own taste mix with the lingering cinnamon flavor from other kisses. The calm didn't last long, so we were raising the intensity again, positioning ourselves so that she straddled my lap. I don't know when Wheein got rid of her clothes, but feeling her, skin against skin was a pleasant surprise. I touch her thighs, thick from years of dancing, and she presses harder against me, and I shudder because I'm still sensitive, but I let her take advantage of the friction between our bodies with slow, calculated movements. I bite my lip to keep myself conscious at the sight of Wheein throwing her head back as she grinds against me. She whispers my name, takes my hands and puts them on her breasts, squeezes, and sighs.

I swallow hard when I feel her movements speed up.

I swallow hard again when she looks at me as she brings my right hand to her mouth. My arousal is at its peak when her tongue surrounds my fingers.

Wheein smiles knowing the effect it has on me.

I follow the path she takes with my fingers, the tracks of saliva mark her torso and abdomen until they disappear into her. I am mesmerized by the ups and downs, slow at first, but gaining speed with each onslaught of my anxious fingers. Soon, we find a rhythm and I watch Wheein get lost in the sensations. Her hair sways, not as much as before when it was still long, but the swirling adorns her focused expression. Eyes closed, brow furrowed, mouth half-open, breathing fast. She bites her lip when I feel the contractions around my fingers. I wish she had shouted my name, but Wheein is not as vocal as I am and no, it does not diminish the quality of sex with her.

I would have a silent overdose of sex with her on her bed without complaining.

She collapses beside me and the mattress sinks.

We were silent for a long time, just recovering the normal rhythm of our breaths, and when I feel Wheein's gaze burning over my face, I decide to turn around. We stood aside, staring at each other in the dark, and, once again, the things I would like to say come to mind and ask to be expressed ...

Like ... I would like her to hold me tight and not let go, to stay with me without hurting me.

Like I would like to say that I want her to be the first person to hug me, to touch me, to help me, to love me ... without bringing me pain.

But I don't say it.

I want to let her live.

I allow her to get up, get dressed and leave.

I know what she's going to do, but I don't stop her.

I spend a few minutes alone in the dark before she comes back. Wheein says nothing, just opens the window a little. The sound of rain invades the room, the cold wind causes chills and I get up to get dressed, but I remember that my shirt is in the kitchen. Ggomo follows me to the bedroom on my way back, but he doesn't enter. The cinnamon incense is burning to disguise the smell of the beck she is smoking near the window.

I sit on the bed with my legs crossed and wait for a talk, but the silence speaks for us.

Wheein taps on the windowpane with her forefinger, distracted and anxious.

I start coughing, I really have no resistance to smoke. Wheein laughs humorlessly as she puts out her cigarette.

\- Sorry, I forgot that you don't smoke. - she doesn't look at me and gets up.

I watch her go through some drawers, looking for something I hope she doesn't find, but my silent prayers are not answered and she takes a bag from the last hiding place in the wardrobe and hurries out.

I lie down again and sink my face into one of the covers, drugging myself in her scent. I don't know how long it takes for her to come back and throw herself on the bed next to me, I feel her weight on me, her face buried in my hair.

\- Do you want some? - She asks, her voice muffled.

\- No. - I reply sadly and Wheein gets up.

She was clean, probably since our last time, and I want her to stay that way. However, I remain motionless in bed, with my face on her blanket trying to absorb as much of her as I can, I don't move when I hear the bag being opened. I don't protest, I don't stop her. It was selfish to come back here, I was selfish for forcing my presence. But I'm weak, I'm a coward and I'm an addict. The difference is that my drug is her.

 _'Nobody gets addicted to people, Yongsun.'_ Dr. Moon's words come to my mind. I wonder what she would do if she knew I was in Wheein's apartment again, would she look at me disapprovingly while she scribbled any nonsense on her pad? Or would she feel sorry for me? Maybe a little bit of both.

Ggomo appears and jumps on the bed, he lies next to me, strangely affectionate. I wonder how this cat hasn't tried to kill me yet, he knows I'm responsible for every relapse of his owner since that damned night, but even so, he pretends to like me. I will never understand cats, they are too complicated. Ggomo looks at me while I pet him behind the ear, yellow-green eyes judging me. I look at his owner, sitting by the window, on the parapet I see some pills and the temptation haunts me for a moment, but I remember that my drug is different.

Wheein sighs.

 _'Time, Yongsun. You need time. Maybe she needs more than you do.’_ Doctor Moon's low voice echoes in my mind again. Yes, doctor, I know, but I am too selfish.

I should go, but I don't want to leave her here with that poison so available. I tell myself that I want her good, but what good do I do when my presence presses her so hard?

Maybe I should call Hyejin, I know she would drop whatever she was doing on time just to be with Wheein. And probably to beat my ass up for going back to her best friend after all.

\- Stop this. - Wheein breaks the silence. - I can hear your thoughts, Yongsun. They are too noisy.

\- I'm sorry. - I answer in a weak voice.

\- Look ... It's not because of you. -She continues, her eyes empty, distant. - I'm going through a creative block, I just need a little help.

The lie comes out easily as if it were true.

None of us believe that.

My ex used to say something similar before injecting himself. The memory of him leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, a phantom pain appears on the shoulder that was broken by him.

\- I ...- she starts in a small voice. - I don't know what I'm doing. I stopped this weeks ago.

 _'You're trying to escape ...'_ I say to myself and I don't blame her. If I were in her shoes, I would also get stuffed with drugs to run away. Well, in a way, I do that too. The problem is that I run away from my traumas by sinking Wheein into hers.

I get up in search of her cell phone. When I find it, I open the contacts and type "H" in order to call Hyejin, but it is "Hayan" that appears at the top of the list. A strong pain hits me when I click on that fucking name and I recognize my number, entitled with my ex's name. So that's how she avoids calling me. I bite my lip, the physical pain keeps me in the present and I decide to erase the contact. I don't want Wheein to associate me with him, although I'm sure she sees his ghost whenever she looks at me.

Ghost.

Even after he's dead, Hayan still brings me pain. He must be laughing at me, mocking the fact that I'm in love with his sister and I can't have her. Cursing me for that.

Or not.

The curse is not for me, it is for Wheein. He made a point of making that clear before he blew his head off. I close my eyes tightly trying to stop the images that form in my mind. I think that's why Dr. Moon says I need to heal myself from trauma before anything.

I send a quick message to Hyejin: _**it's happening again.**_

She will understand that Wheein needs help.

\- What are you doing? - Wheein asks as she embraces me from behind, her voice is already altered.

\- I called Hyejin.

\- Why did you do that? Do you want her to burn you alive? - she says that laughing loudly and squeezes me tighter.

\- She'll help you later. - I say when I turn to her.

\- Are you finally going to disappear now? - she lets me go and walks away without looking at me.

I sigh tiredly, I don't like it when she speaks like I'm a ghost or a burden.

\- I shouldn't have come.

\- You shouldn't, but it was good. It's always good ... until it isn't.

It hurts to hear that, even though it's true. Wheein throws herself on the bed and lies with arms open facing the ceiling. I can't resist, I go to the bed and lie down on her, she turns her face away.

\- I missed you, - she whispers. - But I wish you hadn't come.

\- I know... me too.

Minutes pass in silence, I feel her irregular pulse and I can only think that it's my fault, but I don't feel remorse.

I do not regret anything.

I kiss her neck before getting up, I go to the window and throw away all the pills that are there. I can almost hear them falling to the ground and being dissolved by the rain. I would like to dissolve in water so easily too, but I can't.

\- You just threw thousands of won out of the window. - she says laughing.

Wheein is sitting watching me when I turn around, her pupils dilated and dark in an abnormal way, quite different from how they were before when she was on top of me. She tilts her head to the side and sighs.

\- Do not look at me like that. I don't like using it, but it gets easier this way ... I feel less crazy, you know ...

I know.

\- I'm finally going to disappear. - I say strangely firm.

I do what I did three weeks, four days, 15 hours, and a few minutes ago: I take a deep breath, and pet Ggomo before kissing Wheein for the last time, again. I leave without saying goodbye and hope that she gets the message.

I hope I understand too.

As I go down the stairs, my mind goes blank, but the taste of cinnamon remains in my mouth. Mrs. Oh is no longer in the hall, no one sees me go out and force the door to close it. The rain is heavy and I slowly return to the car feeling empty. When I enter, I look in the rearview mirror, there is no sign of Hayan's ghost beside me, I only see tears mixed with rain marking my face.

I start the car and leave without looking at the building, I promise I won't be back. Not for me, but for her.

_'It's time to start abstinence again, Yongsun.'_

**Author's Note:**

> If you read everything, thank you very much!
> 
> I have other oneshots with happier endings in the aff, maybe I'll post here too.


End file.
